Full Circle
by Jennis524
Summary: Some Romano angst, Cordano implied. “In some ways over the last year I have seen a different side of you -- a side which I could see myself loving.”


Title: Full Circle

Author: Jen Zoromski AKA Jennis524

Spoilers: "Dead Again" "A Hopeless Wound" "The Advocate" "Things Change" & "When Night Meets Day" 

Summary: Some Romano angst, Cordano implied. "In some ways over the last year I have seen a different side of you -- a side which I could see myself loving."

Author's Note: Yet another short Romano story -- love this character. Hints of Cordano as well as some Romano angst. Please R&R! Thanks!

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Life is but a matter of moments made important by a driving force. Maybe in this life some things will come full circle. AS vague as my life has been to some people, more importantly my colleagues they have changed me beyond belief -- she has changed me. Darkness is upon me as the grogginess of the anesthesia starts to wear off. A dull pain throbs from my arm and I open my eyes slowly.

Wincing at the bright sunlight coming through the windows I open my eyes again -- slowly -- forgetting for a moment why exactly I'm in this room. Dull white walls greet me with the aroma of antiseptic and death lurking in the halls -- always prominent, but never questioned upon.

A small vase of flowers sits at my bedside -- I snort at the fact that I even have one vase of flowers. Opening my eyes wider I look around the room.

No one.

I'm alone. All alone. So she didn't care about me. Vaguely I think I remember the brightness of the recovery room. And I remember her -- she must have been there. But where is she now?

Too much to think about, especially through the cloudy head that I've been trying to deal with.

Figures no one's here with me. My eyes start to droop, becoming heavy and I try and fight sleep. It is on fight I will not win.

Darkness comes to me again as I doze off. Sometimes the darkness is the place that I've escaped to over the years. Maybe this is the reason I have tried to stay away from getting sick or going under the knife -- because of the things that go through my mind -- things I'd rather not think about. 

Often through eavesdropped conversations I've heard people wonder where the cold hearted bastard came from. Theories of an evil mother, a hard up bringing, no father, a broken heart, a lost love have gone through the gossip columns -- never true. I even heard her talk about it in whispered conversations with her lover at the time.

Even I wonder what went wrong -- where I received the coldness -- the disdain for life. Moments in this darkness is where I truly know and understand myself.

Years ago there was another woman who was just as competitive as I was. It was fifteen -- no maybe twenty years ago. I was in my first year of my surgical residency while she was only a third year med student -- my first student to influence, to mold, but she was a hellion -- a spit fire and I think it was then that I realized it was the woman who could match my wits and give it right back to me. 

Nothing ever happened with her -- she was forbidden fruit to me and I wanted her to be mine, but the huge ego of a would be surgeon mixed with a medical student who went by the book threw us through a loop.

In many ways the day I met the very elusive Elizabeth Corday was when the emotions came back from that previous forbidden relationship -- she reminded me very much of that medical student who I went after and failed.

But thinking of this one woman -- she can't be the sole reason for the joy of spitting out insult after insult. Some of the things I hurl at my staff today, I would have cringed at years ago. Now in the darkness it is all I have to think about -- the only idea which goes through my head.

And then my thoughts go away from what never was and to the situation now at hand. My dear, Lizzie, my equal. I have been drawn to her in such a way that it is indescribable. Six years we have been at wits end with one another and at the brink of something. That something neither of us know.

The last year flashes through my mind -- the last year I've had with her.

__

I watch as she approaches -- it is like the face of an angel, as I try and think of something other than the pain going through my arm. Physical therapy sucks.

"Lizzie!" I exclaim trying to bite back the pain, "I heard rumors."

"All true I'm afraid," she replies smiling back at me. 

"The one face I missed seeing in recovery," I reply softly.

"I'm so sorry Robert," she replies genuinely showing her sympathy.

"What about my arm? Or not being here?" 

She just looks at me with her customary sad smile. One she'd been sporting the months before Greene went and died on her.

How long ago was that? It seems like a lifetime ago. The visions continue.

__

I sit in the darkened surgeon's lounge listening as the door opens. 

"Why are you still here?" she asks softly turning to me.

"Uhh," I mumble quietly, "My piano recital was cancelled."

__

She picks up the phone and tells her nanny that she's on her way -- ready to get out of this place. After awhile it just sucks you in.

"We did the right thing, you know."

"Trying to convince me or you?" I ask her bitterly.

"Look I've been through a period of adjustment. When I became a mother, every time I had to treat a child… you get over it."

I rub my eyes with my good hand, frustrated, "Spare me the two dollar psychoanalysis, Lizzie."

"Fine," she retorts turning on her heel to leave.

"Hey, look, I know most people don't like me. I don't care -- I don't like most people," I start gaining her attention as she turns back to me, "But I'm good at what I do. I save people's lives. Everyday. People who no one else can help…if I can't do that…I…"

Elizabeth stares at me -- surprised at the fact that I've revealed something to her. She walks over to me and kneels down in front of my chair. 

"Robert, I know you're frustrated. You're an excellent surgeon and you will be again. I promise you!"

She places her hand over mine -- I'm at a loss. A momentary weakness. I reach out and caress her cheek -- three seconds. And she pulls away, surprised and shocked.

October. Halloween. It all comes back so easily when there's nothing else to think about. Nothing else to put my expertise into. 

__

Elizabeth takes my arm into her hands, starts to suture up the cut on it. 

"Let's see what's next? I could cut it while slicing a bagel and not realize it until I pass out from blood loss or…"

Elizabeth interrupts me, "Robert…"

"…Or maybe I could set the damn thing on fire," I retort.

She sighs heavily as she starts to put gauze over the wound, "You need to be patient."

I make a face at her, "Yes. So everyone keeps telling me. Although none of us actually believe I'm ever going to partially recover, do we?"

Elizabeth gives me a half-hearted, weak smile. She's agreeing with me. But she doesn't reply.

"Do you believe in the laws of karma, Elizabeth?" she looks up at me, "the Eastern philosophy -- the influence of past actions on your future life?" 

"I know what it is," she replies going back to fixing my arm.

"So I can be a jerk -- so what?" I reply giving her a disgusted look, "I've always been honest. Brutally honest. Bruised some egos, hurt some feelings, maybe, uh, provoked a few tears, but honesty's a hell of a lot more than most people can claim."

I look at her face -- trying to gauge her reaction to my continuous rant on my situation. She stares into my eyes and I do the same.

"I don't deserve this," I reply softly.

"Robert," her voice whispers softly through the darkness. 

It must be another dream. I hear the sound of her high heels clicking methodically against the tiles. She's everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

__

I sit trying to suture the ulcer on my arm. The damn thing looks horrible. The door opens, but I don't look up as Elizabeth walks through the door.

"Don't tell me that you HMO doesn't cover somebody to do that for you."

I don't look up at her and continue to work on my arm, "Well you know what they say -- you want something done right…"

We talk about the procedure in the ER -- one that she missed the first time around and I proceeded on in the ER.

Towards the end of our conversation she looks up at me and tries to crack a joke, "And what's after that? Witchcraft? Magnets?" 

I laugh sadly at this and respond, "Try anything at this point."

Elizabeth's voice grows concerned, "You know at some point maybe--" 

She doesn't finish, only stares at me -- her eyes becoming sad at the thoughts going through both of our heads. Elizabeth breaks the gaze and looks down.

"What?" I ask softly.

"It's nothing," she whispers.

"Say it --"

Elizabeth refuses to say a word and I start to ramble off the same speech I've given to patients hundreds of times before, "At the point when the wound becomes life-threatening, because of gangrene, or sepsis...it may be in the patient's best interest to consider...a definitive surgical cure."

__

She nods her head sadly, confirming my own prognosis.

Warm flesh against my own -- someone's hand is grasping on to mine.

"Robert I know you can hear me -- open your eyes."

I don't. It is the mind games again. The control we've both always fought for with one another is still prominent in this room.

"You always have been a stubborn one Robert --" she whispers grasping my hand a little tighter.

"Open you eyes. I want to say something to you without you faking a comatose state."

Her comment, said with the staccato British accent and fervor is hilarious in its own matter. Just the tone of voice she uses puts a small smile on my face. I have missed this -- missed her in the darkness -- Elizabeth in flesh and blood -- not memories.

"Robert, you and I both know that the unconscious don't smile."

I open my eyes slowly and find the room extremely bright. It is still in its dreary stat -- I think any hospital room will always be like that.

"I was not smirking, Elizabeth, merely wincing at your horrid attempt at stand up comedy," I snark, starting right back where we left off.

Her face softens into a genuine smile -- my God, she's beautiful and she'll never be mine.

"Robert, what's the matter?"

"Lizze, my arm was just amputated -- what do you think is the matter?" I snap recoiling almost immediately. Damn-it -- the one thing I'm good at -- being an ass when someone actually cares.

I look down, guiltily at my remaining hand -- and back up to her amazing blue eyes.

"I'm sorry, Lizzie, I didn't mean to --"

"I know," she responds in stride. Elizabeth's been here before with my moody attitude. Part of me wants to just fall apart and die -- but looking at this woman in front of me and the woman of my past -- life does come full circle.

"I was just checking to make sure you were still the same old Robert I left in the OR."

Did she just say she was in the OR? She was there. 

"Robert, don't look so surprised -- I promised you I'd be there and I was."

I give her a weak smile and close my eyes -- becoming suddenly tired.

"You're tired, I'll let you get some rest."

She heads for the door, "Lizzie, I didn't happen to say anything stupid while I was coming out of surgery?" I reply half joking.

She grins mischievously.

"Lizzie?"

"I know--"

"You know what?"

"Get some rest, Robert, and I'll explain it to you later."

"What'd I say?"

Elizabeth walks to the door and turns back with a small smile on her face.

"That you love me."

She walks out into the hall, but puts her head back into the room.

"Robert its not as bad as you think."

"Why not?"

"In some ways over the last year I have seen a different side of you -- a side which I could see myself loving."

And with that she walks out into the hallway -- leaving me to the darkness again. But as I close my eyes the darkness does not descend upon me -- but rather light.

And hope.

FIN

*******

Hope ya enjoyed this one -- a different attempt at trying to tell it from Romano's point of view.

Please R&R!

Thanks

~Jen

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